


Valenlies

by Chiroptach



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020)
Genre: Anal Sex, Fake Marriage, Fun, M/M, Roman's favorite word is fuck, not many dark themes, plot and porn, rogues being assholes to each other, roman is unstable, rough language, unsafe knifeplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:47:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24417619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiroptach/pseuds/Chiroptach
Summary: The best party spot in town on Valentine's Day is the Iceburg Lounge, but in an attempt to deter a certain question mark clad problem child and everyone's favorite clowns, Mr. Cobblepott has put a stipulation on Couple's Night. Married couples only. So what are Roman and Victor to do? Lie, of course!
Relationships: Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz
Comments: 3
Kudos: 77





	Valenlies

Normally, the place to hit up on Valentine's Day was the Iceberg Lounge. There was a couple’s discount at the normally ridiculously overpriced club, and the discount price was the only one Roman considered remotely acceptable. It was also one of very few nights that the rouges gathered together that Batman wasn’t entirely aware of yet. Victor absolutely hated social events, but this was  _ different.  _ During this social event he got to stay close to Roman and hold his hand and be obviously and aggressively affectionate with him. At most business meetings Victor had to stick back and be a ‘bodyguard’. However, this was  _ couples  _ night. Which meant only couples got a discount, and Mr. Cobblepott was particular about what he would allow to be considered a couple. If you didn’t at least kiss once Cobblepott would get up in arms about it. Victor thought it was stupid till he figured out that the reason why would be the Riddler convincing countless other rouges to pretend to be his boyfriend or girlfriend to get in so he could harass Cobblepott. Cobblepott had since then watched people he didn’t think were real couples throughout the night and harassed them if he decided they were couplely enough. He had done it to Victor and Roman exactly once, which resulted in the gum Victor had been chewing to keep his cool and not stab anyone ending up in Roman’s mouth. Cobblepott didn’t question them after that. Victor liked the Valentine’s Day party well enough, and definitely enough to be unhappy to see the regulations had been changed. Couples weren’t enough anymore. They had to be  _ married.  _

Roman sent Victor off to ask around about  _ why  _ while Roman called up a driver. Victor was a little upset. Roman had dressed up and dressed him up for nothing. He was wearing stupid formal shoes that squished his toes and multiple shirts for  _ nothing.  _ He walked up to the nearest rogue who would speak to him, Dent. 

“What the fuck happened?” asked Victor. 

“Pengy had a bit of a bitch fit,” Dent sighed. “He and Harley had a fight a few days ago about her and Joker, and Harley kept saying the normal ‘oh he loves me’ and then Pengy decided to set this new rule up to prove Joker ain’t got the balls to marry her. He didn’t, and now Pengy’s right but nobody else is happy. It’s easy enough to just kiss somebody you ain’t with to prove it to Cobblepott but the wedding rings are a bit harder.” 

“Thanks,” sighed Victor walking back towards Roman as he gestured to Victor. The car was there. Looked like no Valentine’s party. 

“Vic! Come here!” Roman yelled, deciding he wasn’t walking fast enough. Victor jogged in his too-tight shoes over to Roman. Roman grabbed a box out of the car and sent it off, grabbing Victor’s left hand. 

“What about-” 

“Fuck Cobblepott, those prices are bullshit,” Roman said. He fumbled the box open and took a ring out of it, pushing it on Victor’s ring finger, before putting a matching one on himself. “If he wants to play that way fine, I pronounce us man and husband.” Victor looked at the ring. Roman’s parents’ wedding rings. 

“Did you have these taken off your parents’ corpses?” asked Victor.

“Yeah, a long time ago,” Roman said. “I think it was the same time that I got the materials for my mask, but I’ve spent a lot of fuckin’ time there.” Victor grinned.

“So are we Mr. and Mr. Zsasz or Mr. and Mr. Sionis?” he asked. “Or like a hyphen? Zsasz-Sionis? Sionis-Zsasz?” Roman paused for a second. Victor expected Sionis, but then he was quickly reminded of Roman’s parental issues. It really should have been on the forefront of his mind since he was wearing one of Roman’s dead parents’ wedding ring. Victor was not exactly a sentimental person, but he sort of wished it was his own parents’ rings. 

“Sionis,” Roman decided, “Well I…. Fuck how do people even get married? This is fuckin’ hard.”

“I expected Sionis,” Victor said. 

“Yeah but I  _ like  _ your name,” Roman whined. “I like saying Mr. Zsasz.” 

“Roman it’s just for tonight,” Victor said. 

“I know, but we need to make sure we do it all correctly so Cobblepott doesn’t shove his freakish bird fists up our asses,” Roman said. He paused, considering it a little longer. “You pick.”

“Sionis,” Victor said immediately. 

“Alright,” Roman said, flopping an arm leisurely around Victor. They walked to the entrance, where the line would usually be, and up to Cobblepott. 

“So, two standard tickets?” Cobblepott said, grinning. 

“A couples’ ticket actually,” Roman said.

“I’ve changed the rules about that-”

“Oswald, we’ve been married for years,” Roman said. Oswald paused.

“What?”

“We’re already married,” Victor said louder, as if it were obvious.

“When? When the hell was your wedding? You’ve never been quiet about anything Sionis!” 

“I sent you an invitation,” Roman stared Cobblepott down, genuinely looking angry, as he put his arm down. It took Victor a moment to catch up and start doing what he’d normally do if Roman were pissed. He almost thought that Roman  _ was  _ pissed, or at least starting to get pissed. Victor held Roman’s hand and wrapped his other arm around his waist, trying to maintain a glare. “What did you fuckin’ throw it out?”

“What? No! I never got a wedding invitation!”

“Well where’d it fuckin’ go Cobblepott? Where the fuck is it?” Roman snapped.

“When did this happen?” Cobblepott asked. 

“It was like April, three years ago,” Dent added. “Do you genuinely not remember?” 

“Wait so- Wait-” Cobblepott began. “So everybody still calls you Roman Sionis and you Victor Zsasz-”

“I mean you don’t have to change your last name when you get married,” Selina Kyle slid up and locked her arm with Dent’s. 

“Plus everybody knows you as Penguin, that ain’t your name,” Victor said.

“Your legal name being different- Harvey, Selina, I’ll deal with you two in a minute-” Cobblepott said. “Wait- you two aren’t married too are you?” he demanded.

“Vegas, Marti Gras, two years ago,” sighed Selina, rolling her eyes. 

“It still says Kyle on your door in Arkham!” snapped Cobblepott, turning to Dent, “And you’re still married to Gilda!” 

“Even drunk, I’m not dumb enough to change my last name for any man,” she said.

“Gilda divorced me a long time ago, Oswald,” Dent sighed. 

“Fine- Fine, you two go, Zsasz, Sionis, you stay,” Oswald said. He made Kyle and Dent pay but let them in. 

“Sionis and Sionis if you want to be uppity about legal names,” Victor said. 

“Everybody still calls you Zsasz-  _ everybody _ -”

“I have a reputation as Victor Zsasz, and I don’t feel like sending out a telegram to tell everybody who’s ever been scared of me to tell them it’s Sionis now.” 

“Not like sending a letter out would even fucking  _ get  _ to everybody!” snapped Roman. 

“Look, I dunno what happened with the wedding invite-”

“You no-show  _ our fucking wedding,  _ you fucking don’t even give me an explanation, and now you’re fucking acting like we’re lying and- God! What’s your issue you fucking  _ fuck? _ ” Roman snapped. Victor pulled him close and stared Cobblepott down. 

“Look- I’m sorry- I’m just used to Eddie’s bullshit-”

“Did you just compare me to Edward  _ fucking  _ Nygma? Do you think I’m anything  _ fucking  _ like  _ Edward?”  _ snapped Roman.

“No- no, no no-” Oswald began, trying to keep Roman from absolutely losing his shit outside of the Iceberg Lounge. “Look, I’m sorry about the wedding, Sionises, really, I just uh- Look I’ll find whoever threw out the invite- I’ll take care of it, let’s not make a fuckin’ scene, Roman. Just go in, both of you,” Cobblepott said. He didn’t bother trying to make them pay. Roman grinned, anger vanishing as quickly as it came. As soon as they were out of ear and eyeshot of Cobblepott, Roman snickered. Roman peppered Victor in kisses, holding him close. He was suddenly and abruptly in one of his best possible moods, and being nice to everybody. Victor decided Roman being overly friendly towards others was an acceptable price to pay for always having at least half of Roman’s attention and the constant feeling of his hands. Roman found a booth and sat down, dragging Victor in to his lap. 

Roman was so particular about how he dressed Victor for parties. If Victor had picked at his undershirt enough for Roman to notice he would have thrown a fit. But Roman ran his hands up under it, popping it out of place and running his arms right up Victor’s sides till he was grasping Victor’s chest and stomach. Cobblepott had come back along to watch the ‘couples’ and make sure Roman didn’t start any fights. It was a valid concern with how volatile Roman could be, but it was much more likely that Roman would dig around in the club till he found an appropriately clean place to take Victor’s pants off as quickly as possible. Normally Victor expected Roman to dig around for a clean place to stick his hands in Victor’s pants, but he seemed fond of just doing that in the booth. Cobblepott was firmly glaring at them now. Or more aptly Roman. Victor technically wasn’t doing much wrong, just sitting next to Roman with a shit eating grin till Roman pulled Victor in to his lap. Cobblepott puffed up like a chicken and swiftly waddled towards them, deciding what was occuring was no longer acceptable. 

“Mr. Sionis, Mr. Sionis,” Cobblepott began. “Could you two fuckin’ consummate your marriage somewhere else?” Roman popped his hands out from under Victor’s shirt and out of his pants, before moving them to Victor’s hips, making sure Victor didn’t leave his lap. Victor smirked. 

“So it’s fine when the clowns fuck in your booths but not when I give my husband a little attention?”

“If I told Joker and Harley to go fuck somewhere else they’d do it in my goddamn pool,” sighed Cobblepott. “You two have always been more… You’re professional, and uh… To be honest less fuckin’ horny and gross. Like you two are still horny as hell and you know I hate it when you do shit like this but if you can keep it to being as handsy as you usually are it’s fine.” 

“Alright, alright,” Roman said, grinning. 

“Oh jesus fuckin’-”

“What?” snapped Roman.

“Edward, nothing to do with you two,” Oswald sighed. He waddled off and Victor leaned back against Roman. 

“We really gotta stop, baby?” Victor whispered in to his ear. 

“We can put a pin in it,” Roman said. “I’m gonna take care of you later, I promise.” Victor sighed, but as the horny parts of his brain accepted their banishment the brilliant parts came forwards. 

“Does ‘hubby’ fall in to the acceptable terms of endearment pile or not?” Roman considered it. He was so serious sometimes, considering little jokey terms of endearment with the same judgement as his fine art, but Victor had to admit he liked it. He really liked when that serious, artistic consideration was applied to his chest, and especially to his scars. Sometimes Roman liked to have Victor lay naked across his bed or sometimes a table as he passed that artistic judgement over each of his scars. After that was always something sexual, usually the type of sexual where Roman bathed him in attention and could spend a whole fucking afternoon teasing and touching and kissing and not getting to the point. 

“Hubby is acceptable,” Roman decided. Sometimes Victor forgot that Roman was only really quiet when he was thinking. Victor  _ wanted  _ to turn around and suck bruises on to Roman’s neck. Sometimes Roman wouldn’t let him do that, no marks where people could see, but recently he’d gotten some nice shirts with higher collars. 

“This is unfair,” sighed Victor.

“What?” asked Roman.

“I don’t wanna wait,” Victor sighed. 

“Victor, I  _ promise,”  _ Roman said. “I’m gonna take such good care of you.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“We gotta have a honeymoon, don’t we?” Roman said. 

“You better not be teasing me,” Victor said. “What are you gonna-” 

“So, Mr. and Mr. Sionis, why wasn’t I uh- invited to your wedding?” the Joker interrupted, walking up to them without his plaything for once. Victor had three blades on his person. He knew exactly where to stab Joker to kill him, and he would make sure himself that he stayed in the fucking ground. 

“Why were you in fucking Arkham during our wedding?” Roman asked. 

“ _ I  _ was in Arkham? I don’t think I was-”

“Well if you hadn’t been you’d have been invited-”

“I don’t think-”

“What, are we not getting invited to  _ your  _ wedding?” Victor interrupted. “Oh  _ wait- _ ”

“You insult me-”

“You insulted my husband and I first,” snapped Roman. Everyone feared the Joker at their roots, but Roman and Victor rarely feared him on the surface. Especially with this. Joker wouldn’t much care either way about the wedding, he just wanted to rile them up. Roman was easy to rile up. 

“Oh sure, I’m sure he’s your real-”

“Can’t you go reject Harley or something?” Victor interrupted. He had to keep Joker back. He would beat him back with his fists if he had to. 

“Hey, married couples only,” Selina said, putting a hand firmly on Joker’s chest and pushing him back. Joker glared at her, and Dent shoulder checked him, shoving him back firmly. Joker decided to leave the larger group to torment Cobblepott. Victor and Selina could keep Roman and Harvey from losing their shit and giving the Joker what he wanted.

“If you give us details on your ‘wedding’ we can back it up,” Roman said. That was pretty close to a ‘thank you’. 

“Same for you two,” said Harvey. 

Victor found himself borderline bored throughout the chitchat. Roman and Selina talked a lot, and he and Harvey didn’t. Eventually Harvey walked off to get drinks. Victor was trying desperately to not pay attention to Roman moving him gradually off his lap. He really,  _ really  _ hoped that Roman did intend to follow through with that honeymoon. He looked over his shoulder and saw Cobblepott and Nygma yelling at each other.

“I think we need to go,” he said to Roman. 

“Victor we’ve just gotten here,” Roman sighed.

“We’ve been here for hours, and we didn’t even pay,” Victor said. 

“What’s happening?” asked Roman.

“They’re fighting,” Victor said. Roman turned, and cringed. He leaned close to Victor.

“You’re just wanting to get to the honeymoon, aren’t you?” he whispered, voice low. 

“Oh absolutely,” Victor said, putting his hand on Roman’s thigh. “But I also really don’t wanna see these guys fuckin’ fight.” 

“Alright, alright,” Roman sighed. “I can’t believe this party was so… boring. Normally this one is more fun.” 

“I think it’s cause Cobbie didn’t let as many people in as he normally does. He’ll probably lose money and then it’ll be fun again.. We can still make tonight fun though,” Victor said. “C’mon, let’s go.” He kneaded Roman’s thigh till he decided to get up. He and Victor headed towards the door. 

“Goodnight Sionis,” sighed Cobblepott, starting to drink already as the Riddler was temporarily distracted with the Joker. “Night Zsasz.” 

“Sionis and Sionis,” Victor corrected. Cobblepott rolled his eyes. Fair enough. A driver had been waiting, likely for hours, for Roman and Victor. The door was opened for them and they moved in, Victor sitting close to Roman and grabbing at his thigh. Victor was excited, and if he didn't have to worry about Roman’s reputation or that driver he would be all over Roman by now. He stayed still and kept his hands to himself till they finally got to Roman’s Club. He and Roman quickly moved upstairs, ignoring his staff completely as they darted up to his room. Victor held the door open for Roman, and the moment he got in the room his hands were on Roman’s waist and he started to kiss and bite at Roman’s neck. 

“Very excitable-” Roman said. 

“You like that?” Victor asked. 

“Yes,” Roman said. “You’d be missing fingers by now otherwise.” Victor quickly grabbed his belt and his suit jacket, unbuttoning it quickly as he could. He placed Roman’s belt gently aside on the table. Just as he got off the suit jacket he went for Roman’s shirt. Victor moved back, pulling Roman in to his lap, continuing to go after his shirt and pants. “You want to take over?” Roman asked. 

“Absolutely.” Normally Roman was  _ very _ controlling. Now he leaned back in Victor’s arms. He smirked. He killed as a choice, and he killed a lot. And yet Roman trusted him. Victor had three blades on his person still and could take the one out of the sheath under his armpit and slit Roman’s throat right then. Yet Roman was content to flop onto him like a mattress and let him do as he pleased to him. Victor loved it. He finished unbuttoning the shirt and pulled it off, kicking off his too-tight shoes as he was reminded of his predicament by Roman’s undershirt. 

“What the hell do you need three shirts for?” Victor asked, running his hands up Roman’s shirt, pulling it out of place the way Roman had done to him. Roman kicked his own shoes off as well, lethargically. 

“It looks nice, Victor. You know it does.”

“You’d look nice in anything… Or nothing,” Victor said. 

“You look quite handsome in fancy clothes, you know that?” Roman said. 

“My feet disagree,” Victor unbuttoned Roman’s pants. “Lay on the bed.” Roman did what Victor said and he instantly felt a jolt of excitement. He tugged Roman’s socks off then straddled him, grasping at his shirt. He tugged Roman’s undershirt off and pressed his hands to Roman’s chest, then leaned forwards and started to suck and bite Roman’s neck. 

“Be careful of bruises, Victor,” Roman reminded.

“Can’t even leave a little hickey on my husband?” Roman almost laughed. 

“Thank fuck we can take these stupid things off,” Roman said, tossing one of his parent’s wedding rings on to the bed. Victor took the other off, grabbed them together, and then put them both on the bedside table. He had to lean over a bit to fish the lube from the bedside table, putting it aside for the time being. “Victor, if that shirt stays on for another minute-” Victor sighed and went to work on his own shirt. Once he unbuttoned it all the way he recalled the unfortunate reality of the undershirt. 

“See this is why undershirts are stupid,” Victor said. Roman ran his hands up Victor’s sides. 

“And yet you wear it for me,” Roman said. “Is there anything you wouldn’t do for me?”

“No boss,” Victor said, moving firmly back on to Roman. “Absolutely nothing.” Roman was out of patience. He started pulling that undershirt off him. 

“Only thing I don’t like about undershirts is I don’t get to look at all this,” Roman said, eyes closed as he moved his hands over Victor’s scars like a blind sculptor. Rarely did Victor feel particularly appreciated, but the way that Roman felt him and damn near worshiped his scars jolted Victor like a defibrillator. He only felt properly alive when he was killing, marking his tallies, or basking in Roman’s attention. He didn’t even care about the sex so long as Roman touched him and talked to him and looked at him. Of course he wasn’t going to complain about the sex. It was good too, he just didn’t  _ need  _ it the way he needed attention. Roman loved attention too so Victor was sure he’d understand, but also knew better than to tell him. Roman moved those wandering hands down to Victor’s thighs. “So there’s a blade in your left shoe,” Roman said. “I know there’s gotta be more.”

“Three counting the shoe one.” Quickly Roman’s hand moved to Victor’s inner thigh. He found the blade there and started to rub it the same way he often did Victor’s clothed cock. Victor registered having the blade pressed in to his leg as Roman groped him much the same as he would if it were his cock. His hips twitched and he grinded up against Roman. Roman grabbed his belt. 

“Looks like I’ll have to search a little harder for that last one,” Roman smirked, grasping his belt buckle. Victor moved his hands to Roman’s shoulders, gripping them. He tugged off Victor’s belt, tossing it aside on the bed, then went for his pants, stumbling for a moment at the button. Roman was good at performing tasks without using his eyes, and Victor liked to push him to do it more, pinning his shoulders and head back. He wanted to try it with a blindfold, maybe one of his ties. He would bring that up later. Roman had already worked Victor’s pants down as far as he could. “Victor-” Victor stretched out and helped Roman tug them the rest of the way off, making damn sure the blade didn’t touch Roman. Victor kicked his pants to the floor. He flopped down on Roman’s chest and hovered over his mouth, less than an inch from kissing him. He knudged one of his knees between Roman’s leg as he went in for the kiss, and Roman allowed both. Victor sometimes liked the frenchier kisses, but Roman had taken to locating scars on his face and neck before returning to his lips. Victor tried to keep up with Roman’s erratic movements without bumping in to his face. Victor found himself squished tighter to Roman as the other wrapped his legs around Victor’s hips, pulling him close. He knew what Roman wanted, but had a different idea. 

“Tell me what you want,” Victor said hoarsely. He held tight to Roman’s upper arms, keeping him pinned to the mattress, and he could feel goosebumps form. 

“I just want you to fuck me Victor.” There was frustration in his tone, but it was that perfect type of frustration. 

“Just?”

“Victor don’t fuckin’ play-” Victor rolled his hips hard against Roman, who’s hips bucked up to meet him. 

“You don’t like when I play with you?” Victor asked, voice low. “You really coulda fooled me, baby.” 

“ _ Vic, _ ” Roman hissed. “Please.” 

“The great Roman Sionis says ‘please’ now?” 

“Only for you.” Roman was so damn good at getting what he wanted. He grabbed the lube. “Victor you better not get that-”

“Everywhere, I know, I know,” he said. Roman glared at him a little. He supposed he had ought to be extra careful. Roman was in a ridiculously giving mood and if Victor wanted to actually get laid after all that build up he needed to keep Roman in that mood. “I’ll take good care of you, I promise.” He rubbed the lube over his fingers, careful to make sure to warm it with his fingers. Roman didn’t like cold food, cold baths or showers, and sure as hell didn’t like cold lube. Roman had threatened to kick Victor out of bed for touching his back with cold feet many times. He didn’t even like it when knives they were using to kill someone were cold. Once he decided it was suitably warm he realized he had made a mistake. He tried to wrestle Roman’s underwear off with one hand, before Roman sat up a bit, assisting him. 

“Excitable.”

“Roman I could stop right here.”

“I thought you liked to play?” Roman purred. Roman wasn’t as hard as Victor expected or wanted, but he could fix that. He leaned over Roman, licking a stripe up his chest as he pushed a finger into him. Roman moaned softly, attempting to stifle it till Victor bit his collarbone. “You love to bite-”

“I can do much more than bite you,” Victor promised, adding a finger. 

“Who’s this?” Roman asked, running his thumb over one of the scars on Victor’s face. Victor knew, but he wasn’t certain talking about someone else in bed would be beneficial. 

“I dunno.” Roman was so calm and calculating for a man with a couple of fingers scissoring in his ass, but Roman was hard to pin down. Well, his reactions were, Victor was quite adept at pinning him down physically. 

“You know who every one of them are,” Roman said firmly. “Who’s this bitch then?”

“Oldest kid of the Bertinelli family,” Victor said. “Didn’t much matter to me, I just didn’ wanna upset you.” 

“Upset me?”

“Talkin’ ‘bout somebody else in bed,” Victor said. “I don’t even really wanna talk about all these dead people right now.” If he thought Roman would handle it well nothing would make him happier than to explain each and every one of his kills to Roman. Roman would like the violence aspect of it, but he knew damn well Roman would get caught up on the people. Victor didn’t even think of them as people, but he knew it would bother Roman. 

“Yeah,” Roman relaxed some. “Well I’m thankful to them for dying so you could be so ornately decorated.” He moved on, still touching the scars. Victor had learned how to ride out Roman’s moods. He added a third finger, hoping to help chase insecurities and unfocused thoughts away. Roman seemed to approve, pulling Victor a little higher and closer to him so he could give Victor little kisses. Soon it was four fingers. He had to make damn sure he didn’t cause Roman exceptional pain. For a man who would committ a murder over cold feet, Roman could handle physical pain rather well. Victor still didn’t want to hurt Roman in any way- much less when teasing and playing with him could prevent said pain. He grabbed the lube bottle. Roman wore only a lazy grin, looking almost tired. Victor pushed in to Roman, groaning softly. Once he was firmly settled inside Roman they were nose to nose. Victor smiled, pressing their noses together. 

“Hello,” Victor said. Roman snickered, then tilted his head to kiss Victor. 

“I love you, you know that?” Roman said, pulling away. 

“I know,” Victor said, slowly rolling his hips. 

“You  _ know? _ ” Roman demanded.

“I love you too.” 

“Fuckin’ ‘I know’, Victor I can’t believe you.” 

“I was just jokin’ with you.”

“Now you’re just sitting around too,” Roman sighed. Victor sat firmly up and wrapped his arms around Roman’s legs, starting to thrust, firmly and deep. Roman had tried to continue to complain. Victor loved the sound of Roman’s voice, but hearing his words interrupted with a gasp, and a series of little “ah” noises in time with Victor’s thrusts. The feeling was bliss, but the noises and the way Roman kept trying to grasp Victor’s arms or waist was a delightful addition. Victor repositioned slightly, trying to keep hold of Roman’s waist while grasping his cock with his other hand. Roman assisted by tightening his grip with his legs, pulling himself close to Victor. Victor stretched up slightly, trying to hit that sweet spot, testing angles. Roman seemed to like it all. Sometimes his dampened senses could be an issue. Other times it led to Roman letting Victor dance the lovely blades he used to cut off faces to decorate parts of Roman which couldn’t be seen. Of course he had to clean said blades several times in front of Roman for this to be acceptable. But he still got to do it. 

“Tell me if you like anything in particular,” Victor said. 

“Victor I have  _ never  _ had a problem telling you what I want,” Roman said through shaking breaths. Victor found quickly that he couldn’t get the angle quite right with the position they were in. Victor moved back, pulling out of Roman for a moment. “Well I didn’t fucking want that-” 

“I’m just readjusting,” Victor said, pulling Roman along with him to the edge of the bed. 

“Fine,” Roman sighed. “Victor fucking hurry-”

“Come here,” Victor said. “Over the edge of the bed.” Roman did what he said. Victor felt a little pride well in his chest and something else. He couldn’t tell if it was possessiveness or if he wanted to slit Roman’s throat right then. 

“Fuck, Victor just fucking fuck  _ me _ ,” Roman hissed. Victor lined up and pushed in as quickly as he possibly could, ramming him hard. He leaned over Roman, next to his ear. 

“You never found the last blade,” Victor reminded him, grabbing his belt, turning it, and pulling the thin blade out off it. It was flexible and thin, but still a blade. He snagged Roman by his hair and pulled his head back.

“Victor what the fuck are you-” Roman snarled, quieting as Victor placed the blade to his throat. 

“You know I could kill you at any point, don’t you?” asked Victor. There was a pause.

“I do,” Roman said. He didn’t seem particularly upset about his current situation. He moved a hand up, casually and batted the blade away. “I also know you won’t.” Victor smiled and chuckled. “I’m sure you’ve thought about it, but you’re not doing it here and now.” 

“I didn’t even spook you?”

“A little bit,” Roman relented. “Your little stunt would have been better if you didn’t slow down.” 

“Spookier or more entertaining?” Victor asked, speeding up again. Nearly cutting Roman had gotten him close on its own. He found that sweet spot and Roman rocked back against him. 

“Victor grab that blade again,” Roman snapped. Victor didn’t mind the snappy tone of voice and grabbed the blade. 

“Can I-”

“Anywhere it won’t be seen,” Roman said. Victor sliced Roman quickly, along his shoulder blade. How many people had Roman killed? Victor knew at least four that week. He added another three sporadic cuts. Not deep enough to scar, he knew that, but blood dribbled from open flesh and right then that was enough. 

“Roman-” 

“It’s easier for me to take a shower than it is to wash the sheets,” Roman said. Victor already noticed a flaw in Roman’s planning, and he rapidly thrusted, hoping to finish first. Thinking of the way it felt to slice into Roman, then thinking for just a moment about killing Roman, he managed it. He moved quickly, spinning Roman around so he was sitting in his lap to prevent soiling of their sheets. Victor just barely managed it- Roman came hard, a little getting on Victor too. He didn’t mind. He had managed to accidentally cut his hand and Roman’s thigh a bit. Maybe he should have let go of the blade. He decided to take it to the bathroom with him. Roman was already halfway there. Roman didn’t cuddle after sex. He went sex, shower, then possibly cuddles. Usually not cuddles. Sometimes Victor considered drugging Roman just so he could hold him. Victor cleaned the blade, and then cleaned himself up enough with tissue. He went back to the bed, made sure it was clean, cleared his and Roman’s stuff off of it, and climbed in. He hoped Roman wouldn’t throw him out that night. It was hard to tell at times, but it was Valentines, and he waited a long time to spend time with him. He sighed, and decided if Roman did kick him out of bed he would actually drug him this time. He snuggled deeper in the bed, and closed his eyes. Victor drifted off to sleep trying to recall which drugs would work best. 

Victor woke to being kicked out of the bed. He hit the floor. He would need a drug that would fade Roman’s memory so he wouldn’t feel betrayed. Victor stood up gradually. Something that would make him limp and pliable so Victor could cuddle him. He looked at a clock and realized it had been hours. He looked back to Roman and relaxed. He wouldn’t have to drug him this time. Roman had done it in his sleep. He stretched and walked around the bed, crawling back in behind Roman, who had managed to curl himself in a ball and kick Victor out of the bed. Literally. Victor wrapped his arms around Roman and rolled Roman over a little, flattening him to the mattress. Roman writhed under him. 

“If you don’t stop wiggling around I’m gonna drug you,” muttered Victor, grinning slightly. 

“Mhmm,” Roman mumbled in his sleep. Victor hovered over him. He loved it when Roman talked or moved in his sleep. That gave him unprecedented opportunities. 

“Gimme kisses?” he said softly. Roman puckered his lips and tried to kiss the air where his unconscious mind assumed Victor was. He leaned down and pecked Roman on the lips. He chuckled, in his harsh and borderline unnatural way. “You love me?”

“I love you,” Roman mumbled. 

“I love you too Romy,” he snickered to himself. He would never let Victor call him that without throwing a bitch fit, if he were awake. But he wasn’t. “Gimme kisses?” he asked again. Roman gave him kisses again. He rolled Roman over, gently, preferring him happy and sleeping to kicking him out of the bed awake. He wrapped himself around Roman tightly, spooning him. “Night night Romy.” 

“Night night,” Roman mimicked. 

  
  
  


The absolute last thing on Earth that Roman wanted to wake up to was the flaming corpses of his parents calling him homophobic slurs. Oswald Cobblepott in his home claiming he and Victor had cheated him out of money was a close second. Maybe a third, as the IRS was equal to if not above Oswald. A goon had the misfortune of waking up Victor, who moved a little too much and woke up Roman, who hit him with a lamp. They met Cobblepott in an office above the bar, not wanting to disturb the patrons. Roman didn’t bother putting on clothes for Cobblepott, though he did put on his best pajamas, for himself. He wanted to always look presentable. He added some eyeliner just because, and went to meet him. Victor was wearing Roman’s undershirt and some ratty old pajama pants. Of course he was. 

“So it’s come to my attention that you two aren’t really married.” 

“You did this last night, and it’s not any more cute today,” Roman grumbled. “You woke me up for this?” 

“Not wearing your wedding rings today? How come if you’re really married?” 

“Jerking each other’s cocks with rings on hurts,” Roman said flatly. Victor cracked a smile. 

“Roman you can’t push me out of this with your weird sex shit, you didn’t even pay to get in at  _ all _ -”

“I thought you were trying to make up for mocking my wedding, missing my fucking wedding, never sending a gift, and then trying to fucking say my husband isn’t my husband,” Roman snapped. “But fucking fine, I see how it is.” 

“I let you in so you wouldn’t throw one of your infamous bitch fits!”

“You wanna see a bitch fit? I’ll show you a fucking bitch fit!” Roman snarled. Victor put his hands on Roman’s shoulders, starting to massage them, glaring at Cobblepott. 

“Look, we can resolve this right now, get your marriage certificate, I’ll apologise, and then leave. But if you don’t have one then you’re fucking giving me my money.” 

“Can you come back tomorrow? I’ve got shit to do today and we keep it in storage where it won’t get burned down when Joker or some other jackass decides to burn down the club again.” Cobblepott glared. 

“Fine, but I know every wedding venue in Gotham, Sionis, you can’t play me on this one. I already caught Selina and the Dents.” 

“Alright, alright,” sighed Roman. “We’ll get it to you.” 

Victor assumed they would just threaten somebody to correlate their story, or pay them off to, and that would be that. It would be quick, easy, and then Cobblepott would be off their backs. He should have known that was absolutely not what Roman would be doing. He had instead decided right then that they were going to get  _ actually, literally married.  _ Roman had said it casually, just “Get in the car Mr Zsasz, we’re getting married.” Then they went to a wedding venue Roman had a few men scout out to get hitched when they were supposed to be doing whatever they told Cobblepott they were doing. 

“So uh.. Boss.. Why are we actually getting married?” asked Victor. 

“I decided the easiest thing to do would be to get married, get one of my forgers to alter the day on the wedding certificate and age the paper some.” 

“What if.. You paid off the venue people to say we did and give us the paper thingie?” asked Victor. 

“Great way to start off our fucking marriage Victor.” 

“Are we gonna actually.. Be Mister and Mister Sionis?” 

“I mean it’s what we said we were,” said Roman. Victor didn’t want to piss him off but this was ridiculous. “It’s not like marriage matters anyways.” There was a pause. 

“You spent ten minutes trying to figure out what we would pretend our last names were changed to, why does…” He saw the driver and knew he had to be careful with his words. “What’s changed?” 

“Nothing’s changed,” Roman snapped. “It’s fine, nothing’s fucking different.” 

“Can we pull over the car?” Victor whispered into Roman’s ear. “If this driver says anything I’ll put him in the ground.” 

“Pull over,” Roman ordered, and the driver obeyed as quickly as he could. Damn near wasn’t quick enough. “Out. Fucking out!” The driver got out. There was a pause. 

“What uh..”

“My father always told me that marriage was a contract, in which you risk money to force someone you loved at some point to stay with you for the rest of your life or fight you in court about it.” Victor nodded. “I just… I’ve gotten so used to having you by my side and in my bed and.. Near me…. I want to legally bind you to me until one of us is dead.” There was a pause. Victor grinned, his lopsided smile. 

“Real romantic.” 

“I’m serious. I want it to be illegal for you to leave me, which isn’t technically what marriage means but it’s the closest I can get.” 

“I do all sorts of crimes.”   
“It’s the sentiment, Victor, for fuck’s sake. Look if you wanna fucking leave me-”

“I don’t wanna leave you, never. I just dunno if actually getting married is a…”

“What’s wrong with being actually fucking married if you never wanna fucking leave me?” 

“I dunno I just… gettin’ hitched always uh.. Kinda meant something to me?” 

“God, you’re so fuckin soft Victor,” Roman laughed at him. 

“I mean it! It’s important to me, and I want… I would marry you, Roman I guess, I just don’t wanna… Do it just because, you know?” There was a pause. 

“You would marry me… for all the sappy shit instead of just the legal shit?”

“The legal shit means dick to me, Roman.” Roman grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a kiss that first registered in his mind as a headbutt. Then he realized what was happening. He leaned into it, and tried to kiss Roman back with equal force. Roman’s hands went right to his thighs, then his groin, and Victor was less than surprised. He hoped the car had tinted windows. He grabbed Roman’s belt buckle and Roman darted back suddenly. “Roman?”

“Not in the fucking car Victor! We are in a fucking gas station parking lot we are not fucking having sex here!” 

“Okay, okay,” Victor sighed. “Can we later?”

“Yes, obviously,” Roman rolled his eyes. 

“So… are we getting married?” asked Victor. 

“Well, I guess…No. Not for no reason,” Roman said. He tapped on the glass and the driver got in. “Back to the club. Call in the forger, you know the one.” Victor put his hand gently on top of Roman’s, taking care to assure the driver didn’t see it. The driver delivered them back to the club, and the two of them went upstairs. Roman pulled him close and kissed his cheek.

“Is now sex time?”

“Victor you have the emotional intelligence of a fucking sack of fucking rocks.” There was a pause. 

“Is that a no?” Roman sighed and pulled Victor to the couch, pulling him close. Victor grinned and moved his hands to Roman’s waist. 

“You’re so horny,” Roman rolled his eyes, and put a hand on Victor’s knee. 

“You gotta give me a yes before I can do anything Boss, you know how it works.” 

“Not right now, pet,” Roman said. “We’ve gotta sign our marriage certificate so Cobbie has to go be an insufferable cunt somewhere else.” The forger came up with the document. Roman and Victor took turns signing it. 

“You may now kiss the bride,” joked the forger, who quickly decided joking was dangerous, “I’ll take care of aging it, then get it back to you.” He ran off, with the document. Victor leaned out and watched him walk away, then turned back to Roman and grinned. Roman lifted his chin with one gloved hand and gave him a kiss. Victor held Roman’s hand and snuggled closer to him. Victor opened his mouth but Roman interrupted him. 

“It is still not sex time.”

“I was gonna say ‘I love you’. Jeez Boss, you act like all I ever talk about is sex.” 

“Victor I will fire you.” 

Cobblepott came back, as expected, to accuse them of not being married. But this time Roman and Victor had the fake paperwork to prove it. Roman had grabbed his parents’ wedding rings again, and Victor didn’t object. He preferred his parents’ if they were to be anyone’s parents’ wedding rings, but Roman’s fake ass parents made a perfect cover for a fake ass marriage. 

“Alright, Mr Sionises, do you have it?” asked Cobblepott. 

“Read the fucking papers then do me a favor and go fuck yourself, ‘kay?” Cobblepott took the papers in hand. 

“Looks very real.”

“That’s because it is Pengy,” Victor told him softly, bouncing slightly. He was getting tired of this and tired of waiting for the day Roman let him kill Pengy. 

“Only problem is I had a few people pick me up the venue’s copies of marriage certificates all over Gotham, and this one didn’t exist until today.” 

“You know how the fucking press is, Cobbie. Fucking vampires, always coming for me. I paid them off not to keep them. Can’t be fucking blackmailed.” 

“And yet you invited Kyle and Dent to this affair, two other rogues? Two rogues known for blackmail?” Roman was about to retort when he heard it. 

“Hey! The boss is busy!” Stomps down the hallway, and the door was flung dramatically open. 

“Riddle me this Oswald!” Nygma began.

“For fucks sake! You can’t keep the fucking Riddler out? What do I fucking pay you useless fucks for!?” snarled Roman. 

“Edward get out of here!” Oswald snapped. Victor decided he wanted to see how this bullshit played out. 

“Wait, just one moment, Mr and Mr Sionis, I want to prove Oswald here is being a bit fat deceiver when it comes to Couple’s Night and money!” 

“Now you go for the weight?” Oswald frowned. 

“No- I- Oswald I meant it like big fat liar but didn’t wanna say that because- never mind. Explain to me why you let Victor  _ Fries  _ in for half a couple’s ticket, but are now harassing these fine gentlemen over it?”

“The guy just wanted some time away from his dead wife, Edward!”

“And?” Roman asked, looking Cobblepott in the eye. 

“What?” Cobblepott asked. 

“No partner, regular price, that’s what you said to me when I brought up that time I married Jon after getting dared whilst drunk in Vegas!”

“You did what?” Victor asked. “When did you and Scarecrow go to Vegas?” 

“It’s a long story,” Edward said. “But since I don’t count because I divorced Jon immediately after, and Harvey and Selina don’t count because they don’t have a marriage license, why does Fries’s dead wife count?” 

“For the record, Jon divorced you, and-”

“I don’ think Mr. Dent would like to know about this,” Victor mentioned. 

“Oh, don’t be silly Victor, he’d love to know!” Roman said. “Why I should just call him up right now-”

“Sionis-”

“Which one?” Victor asked, trying not to laugh.   
“You see, Cobby, dearest, when you were mentioning rogues fond of blackmail, you forgot the most important one,” Roman had no weapons in his hands, but he radiated the energy of a man about to kill, and it sent a shock through Victor’s spine. “Me.” Cobblepott paused, sighed, and looked between them all. 

“For the record I still don’t believe you two are married, but count it as a gift, Roman.”

“Thank you,” Roman said. 

“You, Edward, I’m gonna fucking throttle you-” Nygma ran out of the room. 

“Riddle me this Oswald: How can you choke me when you can’t fucking catch me?” Nygma ate shit, hitting the ground hard, and Cobblepott would have caught him if Victor hadn’t so graciously tripped him on his way out. 

“You know Boss, maybe next year we should throw our own Valentine’s Party.”   
“And miss whatever the hell that was? Are you crazy Victor?” 


End file.
